


heaven, or some other power structure

by keithsforeheadtattoo



Category: Left 4 Dead
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Character, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithsforeheadtattoo/pseuds/keithsforeheadtattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"is the patriarchy still a thing? i mean, now?" francis asks one time over a grimy chessboard.</p><p>  <b>short post-sacrifice francis/louis established relationship drabz where theyre both, uh, gendergroovy</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	heaven, or some other power structure

sometimes they're lesbians. it happened that way before the world ended, too, it was just harder, then. both to pin down and to live inside. it was always under the threat of the weight of something francis was scared would crush them both; heaven, maybe, or some other power structure. now they spend their nights in gutted apartments with the sides torn off, every highrise is a splintering cliff, and she slides arm by arm out of a vest that's constantly damp with blood. louis thuds empty pistol magazines onto the carpet, says _baby_.

louis is mostly a he because every badge he has of masculinity has been prized from somewhere, hard-won. francis is mostly a he because "he" has never meant "man" to him, has always been hot metal and cold rain at once, a purse full of mace, a steely desire to be somebody's ma. 

it's like fucking floating to have someone know. to have someone ask. to have so few other someones to ever have to talk to again. francis says "she" and it's rapturous back-down in salt water. all she has to think about now is finding molotov ingredients and cooking off of half a hot plate. louis gets dressed while she watches street lights change, a warning yellow cautioning miles of smashed bumper-to-bumper clog. all the drivers are dead. so, they can probably at least play something on that one SUV's radio if they hotwire it right.

sometimes they'll each go "off the grid", louis always called it, but then there really isn't any rubric now. xe used to take whole days off work -- like treason, to xyr -- when xe felt like xe was "from space". not just the band-aid of "both", but also neither, nothing, everything at once, everything but the bitterness of standing still. 

to francis, that's what being "he" is like.

louis used to say that xe would never be bothered by feeling off the grid if only they lived in a world where xe wouldn't have to account for getting fired or hit on or chinese food delivered. 

"is the patriarchy still a thing? i mean, now?" francis asks one time over a grimy chessboard.

sometimes they don't think about it at all. which is like salt water, too, buoyant but stinging each time it worms into old memories. before this there wasn't a day in twenty years louis remembers that went by without a pronoun on his skin he never put there himself. now there's dirt, plasma, the perfume of francis's sweat and zoey's conditioner. in a cave worn into hillside they talk for over an hour about different short-lived junk foods from the nineties.

bill used to say "gentlemen" so much that francis started using "ladies" for the whole team.

louis chooses "he" the morning they leave for the florida keys because the sun glides high and early and everything feels right in his arms. "he", says francis, too, but because he doesn't want to mull it over. he's busy clonking in fresh shotgun shells, satisfying pops that spring out the other side without a pump, everything is automatic, for once. he fells a giant hunter on the docks before its talon fingernails can catch zoey's hair.

"nice shot, baby!" louis calls out from the stern.

**Author's Note:**

> francis is zoey's ma 2k15
> 
> (disclaimer as per usual, that i, the author, am Severely Not Cis)


End file.
